Begin Again
by Sarah1281
Summary: When he's exonerated, Richard finally has time to mourn. After allowing himself to grieve, he's ready to put himself back out there. It's a good thing he's got such a good friend ready and willing to help him out there. Richard x Kath


First date.

He was going on a first date.

He hadn't been on a first date in twenty-one years. Halfway through his first date with Helen he had decided he'd never go on another first date again. For nineteen years he hadn't needed to.

Then he'd been arrested before he'd even been able to process that she was dead. Dating had been the last thing on his mind but he wasn't going to be one of those felons who married some nut who wrote him letters in prison and didn't seem to care he supposedly murdered wife number one. And he was going to be _executed_. Yes, he had been well-aware it might never come to that as he still had years and years of appeals and he could easily spend his life in prison.

That wasn't a future he was prepared to face either.

Even after he had been led from the hotel in handcuffs and quietly uncuffed in the backseat, even after he had been exonerated within the week, he hadn't given any thought to dating. His wife was dead and he only just then was being given room to breathe and to truly face a life without Helen. Somehow it all felt more real when he fell asleep in his own bed and ate breakfast at his kitchen counter alone than when he was sitting in a courtroom or being chained so he wouldn't run.

Nothing about that damn year felt real.

He had needed time to mourn Helen, once he'd finally avenged her, and the thing about having a murdered wife was that everyone let you have it. He had gone to work and mourned her. He had moved to a new place and mourned her. He had tried so hard to rekindle the friendships of those who had never believed him guilty and mourned her.

It was hard to trust them. He had never trusted any of them half as much as he had Charlie and look how that had turned out. None of them had betrayed him like Charlie had. Kath and Bones had even helped him. But they didn't have a motive. What if they had, though? What if they'd been in Charlie's place? He couldn't _know_ but that line of thinking would only drive him crazy. They had stood up to the US Marshals for his sake. It had to be enough.

Two days ago, Kath was sitting in his office and accusing him of being outright un-Chicagoan.

"You're being ridiculous," he had accused her. He'd been _born_ in Chicago.

"I should have known you'd be defensive," she had replied.

"It's just pizza."

She had shaken her head disgustedly. "The fact you can even say that…"

"I'm a doctor. Don't expect me to consume that heart attack on a stick."

She had raised an eyebrow at him. "If you're eating pizza on a stick you aren't doing it right. And it's certainly not Chicago pizza."

He had grinned at her. "You know some people say-"

She had held up a hand to stop him. "If you even say it's not pizza, I will not be held accountable for my actions."

His smile had grown. "Duly noted. But, you know, I didn't exactly have my choice of cuisine when I was in jail."

She had levelled him with an unimpressed look that had made his heart soar. He hated it when people tiptoed around the hell his life had been for more than a year. He wasn't in a good place then or when he was first released but by this point being treated as though he was fragile only made him feel fragile.

"You've had a year to rectify that," she had said. "And you told me you don't even remember the last time you had it."

"It's terrible for you," he had protested.

"I'm not suggesting you have it for every meal or eat an entire pizza by yourself," she had said. "We need to fix this."

He had crossed his arms and given her a challenging look. "And what do you suggest?"

"You, me, and a deep dish pizza."

He had surprised himself then.

"How about Friday?"

And, just like that, he had a date.

Neither of them had called it a date but they weren't teenagers. They knew.

He had always liked Kath. She had such strength in her convictions. She was kind and so smart. She had been the second person to make him laugh after he'd been freed. And she had helped him realize the truth of Helen's death and Charlie's betrayal.

A first date.

He didn't know where this would lead but they were both professions and their friendship had withstood his conviction and his time as a fugitive. They'd survive a bad date.

She was waiting outside when he pulled up and he hoped she hadn't been waiting too long.

"You look nice," he told her when she got into the passenger seat. It was nothing too fancy; they were just going to a pizza place.

"Thanks," she said. "I'll have to let you know how you did once you get out of the car and I can see you better."

"Well now I'm feeling pressured," he joked.

"It's too late to change now."

They pulled into the parking lot and there was a place pretty close. Of course, when they got closer they could see why. The minivan next to it had parked way over the line.

"I think I hate them."

Kath nodded approvingly. "As well you should. They are clearly a terrible human being."

"They have plenty of space on the other side," Richard complained.

"Do you think you can make it?"

He considered it. "Possibly but I don't want to risk it."

He drove past it and found a spot a little farther away.

He got out of the car and caught Kath starting at him. "What?"

"You look nice, too."

He smiled at that and they went into the restaurant.

It was a little past prime dinnertime so they were waiting for less than ten minutes before they were shown to their table.

They opened their menus and Richard found his eyes straying to the pasta.

"Richard, if you don't order pizza…" Kath trailed off.

He gave her a guilty smile. "Deep dish?"

"It's almost like you don't remember why we're here," she said despairingly.

"Why don't you just order?" he suggested.

She considered her own menu. "How about spinach pizza? That sounds vaguely healthy.

"I'm pretty sure it doesn't."

"It's green, at least, and healthier than the one with everything on it. Take what you can get," Kath advised.

Richard shrugged. "Spinach it is. Can I at least get a salad?"

"When did I become a food tyrant?" Kath wondered aloud. "Do I get some sort of food crown?"

Richard just smiled and when the waiter came he ordered his salad as well as the spinach pizza.

"So," Kath said. "How is it so far?"

He laughed. "We just ordered. It seems a bit premature to form an opinion already."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. "Are you really telling me that you don't already have some thoughts?"

"I might," he allowed. "But what kind of scientist would I be if I released data prematurely?"

"The kind that's opening himself up to a million lawsuits," Kath replied. She smiled at him. "I've missed you, you know."

He swallowed, a heaviness suddenly in his chest.

"Is this where I point out that I've been back for a year already?" he finally managed to say.

"You have," she agreed. "Though maybe not quite for a year."

He knew what she meant. It took a month before he was feeling up to so much as small talk.

"And I don't know if I ever told you I missed you when you were gone," she continued. "We had bigger problems when I saw you that first time and later…it just never seemed like the right time."

"I know you did," he said, swallowing again. "I missed you, too."

Someone brought his salad over and he perfunctorily thanked them, his eyes still on her.

"I used to trust the police," she confided. "Maybe naïve of me but I did. I never thought this would happen. And when you were arrested, I never thought it'd end the way it did. Of course you didn't do it. Anyone could have told you that. And I was following the trial. And then…" She shook her head. "It's just too horrible."

He reached down and briefly squeezed her hand. "Well if you were naïve then I was worse. I didn't think I had anything to fear. I was innocent! I thought they'd find Sykes. I mean, there's only so many one-armed men. Them not being able to was all I was worried about. Gerard informed me that I should never have spoken to the police, even if I wasn't a suspect, without a lawyer present. And I should have had to team of experienced lawyers, not one old friend who didn't even specialize in homicide. And I should have focused less on finding Sykes and more on destroying the prosecution's case."

"Gerard," Kath repeated. "That was that marshal, right? That seems a little…blunt."

"But not inaccurate. I'm going to ask his legal advice if I ever find myself in trouble again."

She laughed. "I bet he loved that."

"I actually did tell him that and he threatened to shoot at me again," Richard said. "I'm about eighty-five percent sure he didn't mean it and that's not exactly a no."

Kathy wordlessly shook her head.

"I made a lot of mistakes and I trusted the wrong people and I paid for it," he said seriously. "But I trusted some of the right people, too."

Kath looked down and smiled. "I just wish I could have done more for you."

"I know. But I hated having to involve you as much as I did. If it didn't work…" he trailed off. "You didn't need that."

She looked back up at him, steel in her eyes. "Neither did you. And, unlike you, at least I had a choice about involving myself."

"I don't think of myself as an ex-con," Richard said suddenly. "Is that strange?"

"Well, you're not."

"I was convicted. I was in jail. I was supposed to be on Death Row. And now I'm not. That sounds pretty ex-con to me."

"You're missing the part where you were exonerated and we all know you didn't do it."

" _Most_ people know," he corrected her. "Kelly, for one, has never accepted that he was wrong."

"He'd be an idiot to try anything with you suing the city."

"That's true," he agreed. "But God forbid I ever need the police in the future."

"They say once a con always a con," Kath said thoughtfully. "But you already said you don't feel like one. And I haven't see you checking for escape routes or staring at that cop on the other side of the restaurant."

That surprised him. "There's a cop on the other side of the restaurant?"

Kath smiled. "Well there you go."

"I never was very good at this whole murder thing," Richard said. "I didn't kill Sykes or Charlie. And, for all it took them awhile to find me, I don't think I was a very good fugitive, either. I came home."

"I'm glad."

"Looking back, I still can't believe I managed to pull that off," Richard admitted. "I didn't make that happen. The other prisoners tried something and the guard got hurt and the keys fell. There was a train and I had to get out of its path. Then Copeland unlocked me and what else could I do? But I never thought I'd have really pulled it off?"

"I'm not surprised," Kath told him. "You always were brilliant."

"Brilliant is one thing," he said. "Proving what really happened when I didn't have any idea either…Well, I got lucky."

"People always got lucky, at least a little, when they succeed," she told him. "Even something so simple as giving a speech, they're lucky they're not sick when they present."

"Or that the guy they framed for murder doesn't show up and ruin it," Richard added.

She cocked her head. "That, too."

"Even now, still dealing with the fallout of that whole mess, it doesn't feel real."

"Well it was," she said simply. "And it's over."

The pizza came then and they fell silent as the waiter set the pan on the table and put a piece on his place and one on hers.

"That was quick," Kath said approvingly. "I'm used to it taking forty minutes."

"That's the benefit of eating late, I guess."

Suddenly, he didn't want to talk about the past anymore.

Kath understood, about as well as any friends could, but that wasn't the issue. He had only gone a whole day without thinking about what had happened a few weeks ago and then he had been rewarded by being so guilty he could think of nothing else the next day. It might have been easier to move on if he'd accepted some of the offers he'd gotten from hospitals on the East and West coasts.

He almost had.

They always said that was the thing to do after a traumatizing experience. Start fresh in a new location without all the memories and all the old faces who had known you before and weren't quite sure what to do with the new, damaged you.

But Chicago was his home. It was where he had fallen in love with Helen. It was where he had built a life and where he had a million little pieces to slowly reassemble. Some of the pieces weren't as broken as he had thought.

Chicago was _his_. He had fought for it and he was tired of running.

Besides, while there could always be the odd person who didn't watch the news, in a new place he'd just be the doctor convicted of killing his wife until he had escaped and forced the world to see the truth. At least here, with the people he'd always known, he'd be Richard Kimble who had all that happen to him. He had done nothing wrong. Why should he allow ghosts to chase him away?

"So," he said, casting about for a topic. "How 'bout them Cubs?"

How as _that_ for un-Chicagoan?

"They're doing terrible," Kath replied. "They're always doing terrible. Even when you think they're not, they're not winning the World Series so they're doing terrible."

He chuckled. "By that definition, every team but the one who wins is doing terrible. And technically no team won this year."

Kath grumbled something about the player's strike. "It is unfortunate that the last team who won was Canadian because I'm not even sure why they're in a national baseball league."

"They won in '92, too," he said helpfully.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Thank you for that."

Richard just smiled innocently at her. "You can't tell who will win the World Series until the season is over."

"You can usually tell who's going to the playoffs pretty early on," she said. "And until then you go by who did good last year."

"So anyone but those four teams are doing terribly?" Richard asked. "I think you may need to revisit your definition of 'terrible.'"

"Terrible: haven't won the World Series since 1908," Kath said smugly.

He groaned. "I keep thinking it's only been since 1917."

"No, that was the White Sox."

"Careful, Kath," he said. "I'm starting to wonder if you're the un-Chicagoan one. Maybe you just accused me so that no one will suspect you."

"Hey, I love the Cubs. I think the White Sox are the worst team in the country. What's more Chicagoan than that?" she asked.

I don't think any of the millions of Sox fans out there would agree with you."

Kath just shook her head. "The day I concern myself with what a White Sox fan thinks…"

He laughed. "I wouldn't go _that_ far."

She nodded. "And _that_ is why your Chicago card is currently under review and mine is not. Well, that and the pizza."

He blinked at her. "My…what? Chicago card?"

"Doesn't even know about Chicago cads," Kath said despairingly, clicking her tongue.

"I'm pretty sure you made that up."

She crossed her arms and smiled at him. "But are you one hundred percent sure?"

"As a scientist, I am _never_ one hundred percent certain of anything."

Her smile widened. "Good answer."

After a few minute, she said. "So?"

"So?" he repeated blankly.

"How's the pizza?"

"Oh." He took another bite and closed his eyes, thinking about it. "It's fine."

The look on her face made him smile.

"Fine?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's really fine."

"You're going to have to give me more than that," she said flatly.

"Well it certainly is pizza," he said.

"You are doing this on purpose," she accused.

He put on his best innocent expression. "Answering your questions about my pizza opinion? Well, yeah, of course I'm doing that on purpose."

"Richard…"

He took pity on her. "It's better than I thought it'd be. But every bite makes me feel like I'm inching my way towards a heart attack."

"You and your heart attacks," she said, leaning over and patting his arm. "There there."

He made a face. "I don't think I'll be making this a regular part of my diet or anything but it's pretty good. And, uh, if you're looking for anything more then you're out of luck. I'm not exactly a food critic."

"No but you'll do."

He smiled at that. "So are we going to be really cliché and talk about work?"

She shrugged. "I don't see why not. I mean, our lives are our work. And it's not like we're following any rules of decorum here. We already got into your criminal background."

He laughed. "Ah, but isn't that the kind of thing you'd want to know about a person?"

"I already knew that about you," she pointed out.

"Then I guess it's not a breach of protocol to mention it," Richard said.

She bit her lip. "I'm not sure that that's true."

"But enough about me," he said. "Do you have a criminal background?"

She looked up and tapped her chin. "I guess that depends on what you mean by criminal background."

Richard leaned forward. "Oh, this sounds good."

"Well it's not framed due to a multi-million dollar corporate conspiracy interesting," she said.

"Interesting," he repeated. "Yea, I guess that's one word for it. But I still want to hear it."

"I've gotten a few parking tickets," Kath began.

"This is not interesting."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm getting there. But keep in mind, this isn't the kind of thing I want to get out"

He held up three fingers. "Scout's honor."

"Were you actually a boy scout?"

He looked affronted. "I'll have you know I was an eagle."

She put her hand under her chin. "You believe you were an eagle? Tell me more about that."

"I think you're a little outside your competency there, Dr. Wahlund," he said.

"Seek help," she advised.

"Learn something about the boy scouts," he countered.

"I like cookies better than popcorn."

"Tell me about your _interesting_ legal issues," he said.

"It was literally the night before I was leaving for med school," she told him. "I was with a few friends from college, all high achievers. There was another future med student, a future lawyer, a future librarian, and someone who was going to be a psychologist."

He nodded. "Very intellectual. I can't wait to hear what you got up to."

"It was stupid."

"It usually is," he agreed.

"We had some mushrooms. We were just sitting in a parking lot and I guess a cop got suspicious. He found the drugs and he had grounds to arrest us."

Richard's eyes widened in horror. "Kath…"

"I know," she said, sighing. "I still can't believe I was so reckless! But he was a good guy. He found out we were going off to school and were all going to have great futures. He knew this would ruin all of that. So he let us off with a warning."

He let out a long, low whistle.

"I don't do drugs anymore, of course," she hastened to assure him. "And I didn't really back then. It was just…it was stupid and I got lucky."

"No wonder you used to trust cops."

"I'll always be grateful to him but, as I got older, I started to wonder about even that," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"What if I wasn't a good little white girl? What if I was a high school dropout instead of a future doctor? I mean, maybe then I wouldn't have a school to reject me but what about another job? What about the consequences of an actual criminal record? What about basic fairness?"

"I don't know," Richard said. "Being a rich doctor never seemed to help in my case. It just meant people heard of me and knew what I looked like even before I made the papers for escaping. And it meant I was framed for a corporate cover-up."

"That is true," she said. "But if it had been a random burglar or something, you'd never have found them."

"Maybe he would have let you go regardless," Richard offered. "Maybe it was because you were just kids."

"Maybe," Kath said thoughtfully. "But even then, does the fact I was twenty-two mean that I didn't know what I was doing as much as a forty-year-old would have? But it's really not about that cop. He saved me, you know, and definitely scared me straight. It's just that on an institutional level, I'm painfully aware that some other person without all my advantages wouldn't be so lucky."

"You're such a reformer, Kath."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that a problem, Richard?"

"Not at all," he replied. "God knows this world needs more reformers. I'm just kicking myself for not talking to you more when I needed it."

She smiled. "You should have but as I told the marshals, not your style."

"My style is terrible."

"Under your definition of the word or mine?"

"Both," he said.

"Ah, don't feel so bad. You still got your justice eventually."

"I was mostly looking for vengeance."

"Justice is vengeance with less murder and more righteousness," she informed him.

He shook his head. "You have such an interesting way of looking at the world, Kath."

"I've always thought so."

They didn't get dessert, on the grounds that Richard thought it really might kill him, and Kath laughed at his reaction to the new car parked on the driver's side parking way too close and making it tricky to get in.

Soon enough, they were standing in front of her building.

"I'm glad I came tonight," he told her.

She smiled at him. "Of course you are. That pizza was wonderful."

"I'm going to just let that slide."

"I'm glad I came, too, Richard," she said. He loved the way she said his name.

They stood there smiling at each other for a moment.

Richard wondered if he should go for it. HE didn't want to overthink it but he didn't want to misread it either.

Before he could make up his mind, she moved and her lips were on his.

It had been two years since his last kiss and twenty-one since his last first kiss but, in his slightly amateur opinion, this was a good one.

She was still smiling when she pulled back. "I'll see you tomorrow, Richard."

He nodded. "Yeah. And we'll have to do this again sometime."

"Oh, definitely," she agreed. I have a whole host of other activities to try to prove you're a real Chicagoan."

"As I keep telling you, I've lived here my whole life."

"Don't coast, Richard. You're better than that."

"Thanks," he said. "I think. So…activities. Like a White Sox game?"

She gave him a look. "You are so lucky I found you. You really need the help."

He laughed and watched her disappear back into her apartment.

So that was a first date. It was nice but something told him he didn't want to have another one, not for quite some time.


End file.
